


And I Need You In My Life

by theonlytraveler



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom!Richie, Established Relationship, M/M, No Plot, Smut, Top!Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlytraveler/pseuds/theonlytraveler
Summary: Richie wants something he's never wanted before.





	And I Need You In My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hello-  
> Here is another short Reddie request I posted on my tumblr.

In every relationship Richie has ever had, he has been the wall to lean on.  He is the protector, the caregiver, the one who is needed- and it’s so damn draining-  _exhausting_ \- to be the one who shoulders all the problems, to stay up at night and think of whatever was dumped on him that day.  From problems as insignificant as forgotten homework or a shrunken sweater, to things as shaking as childhood trauma and addiction- he’s heard it all, has sat and listened as these things are set on his chest, and he never complains.  Never tells anyone to stop telling him things.   

But it’s why he’s never allowed himself to be truly vulnerable with anyone.  It’s like everyone forgets that he’s more than just an ear to listen, a shoulder to weep into.  He’s more than just “that one great friend everyone needs”- he’s his own person, with his own thoughts and wants, and dreams, and opinions, and nobody  _ever_  cares to listen to them.  Nobody takes the time to listen to  _him_ \- like when his mom was sick, and he needed to talk about it- his best friend at the time shrugged it off, and kept going on and on about whatever the issue of the day was.  Or when Richie was diagnosed with anxiety, and he was so confused while on his medication, and another best friend couldn’t care less, couldn’t be bothered to listen when Richie sobbed uncontrollably, and tried to confide that he felt like he was losing his mind.  Each friend, each acquaintance- they just keep rambling on and on, never stopping to check if he needs something.  And they have all been like that.  Every last one.   

But things are different with Eddie.   

It was the fall semester of Richie’s second year of college when they met, late night in the library while searching for books in the same section.  The area was empty except for the two of them, so it was difficult to tear his attention away from Eddie, who was swearing under his breath as he moved quickly up and down the row.  His jeans were cuffed up over his chucks, with no signs of fading or excessive wear, and he was drowning in a white, hooded sweater that contrasted beautifully with his tan skin.  And Richie was immediately drawn to his wide, expressive eyes, his soft-looking hair, and the little wrinkle between his brows that appeared when Richie offered to help and found the book he was searching for easily.   

It’s like he was waiting for him his entire life.  At first, Richie repeated the pattern he was familiar with; he listened to Eddie talk about his mom, held him when he sobbed after a terrible argument with her, shoved his own problems and worries aside to be there each and every single time Eddie needed him.  But, while he was stuck in his own loop of behavior, he was too damn blind to see that he was slowly opening up, answering Eddie’s simple questions thoroughly, letting slip about his mother’s aloof nature and how much it hurt at times that she didn’t seem interested in what he was up to.  And it was probably better that things happened so gradually, so easily, because by the time he realized he was in love with his best friend, he was no longer that person who couldn’t open up.  

Richie knew what it was to be loved when he kissed Eddie the first time.  It was soft and full of need, Eddie’s hands cupping his face as their mouths moved together under the glow of the moonlight.  His whole world lit up with the taste of Eddie’s lips, with the scent of his skin and the feeling of his body pressed so closely to his own.  It was the beginning of his confidence and self-love, the end of Eddie’s fear of his mother and his own desires, and he will  _never_  forget the freedom he felt shake him to his core that night.   

It’s been two years since they started their lives together, and Richie is just as in love as he always has been.  They live in his one-bedroom apartment, cramped in the small space, most of their things locked away in a storage facility in the heart of town.  It doesn’t bother Richie, though.  He’s so damn happy to be able to share the same space as Eddie, to go to sleep every night and know that he’s going to be there in the morning.  He honestly doesn’t care to get a bigger place, even though they plan to, some day, when they are through with school and ready to start a family.   

The lamp on the bedside table gives the room a warm glow, washing over Richie’s bare arm, where he has it curved over the comforter tucked around his chest.  It’s not very late, a little past ten, but Eddie likes to go to bed early, and it’s a habit that Richie has picked up no matter how much he tried to fight it at first.  He’s usually the last one in bed, but he’s got so much on his mind that he can’t concentrate on anything else.  It’s close to the end of another semester; finals are already a couple weeks away, and he’s not sure that he’s ready for them, no matter how well he knows his stuff or how prepared he is.  He knows Eddie is just as stressed out as he is, and it’s at times like these that they need each other even more than they already do.  

Eddie steps into the bedroom, his hair slightly darker than usual from his shower, and he looks far more relaxed than Richie is feeling.  Out of the both of them Richie is usually the one to hold himself together while Eddie worries himself sick, but their roles are definitely reversed tonight.  He’s anxious, he can’t keep his hands still, can’t stop adjusting himself to get comfortable.  The shirt he has on is one that he loves because it’s so worn in and perfect, but tonight it’s making his skin feel tight, and it keeps bunching up around his waist, and the damn tag won’t stop poking the back of his neck.  No matter how many times he tugs at the neckline, or shoves it back down over his skin, it won’t stay put, and it’s only heightening his irritation 

The left side of the bed dips and Richie turns to look up at Eddie, lifting his head slightly when he sees the little worried frown between his brows.  “What’s wrong?” He asks, touching Eddie’s wrist gently, dragging the pad of his thumb over the skin there. 

“Nothing,” Eddie lifts the edge of the comforter, sticks his legs beneath the layers of blankets.  “You look like you’re thinking about something."   

Richie lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, stretching his arm out over the pillow as Eddie scoots further down.  Eddie’s head settles over his bicep, and he pulls him closer, sighing when he feels Eddie’s warm breath huff over his collarbone.  "Just school.  I think I’m gonna epically fail everything."   

"You won’t,” Eddie says against his ear, his lips pressing quickly against the lobe.  “You know your stuff."   

Richie smiles, tipping his head down slightly to brush a kiss over Eddie’s cheek.  "Yeah, but I fucking hate taking tests."   

"I know."  

The shirt tag scratches the top of his spine, and Richie inhales as he feels himself start to get even more annoyed.  "Fuck school.  I’m dropping out."   

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, his hand slowly moving to rest over Richie’s chest, fingers playing with the faded cotton of the evil tee.  It gives Richie something to focus on, and he stares hard at Eddie’s uneven cuticles, little bits of skin lining the edges where he picks at them anxiously, and the squared-off tips of his nails that leave marks all over his skin when they make love.  "Let’s do something after we’re finished with finals,” Eddie suggests, and he lifts his head, his damp hair falling over his eyes slightly.  “Let’s go to Universal Studios."   

It’s for reasons like this that Richie loves Eddie so damn much- he knows exactly how to pull Richie out of his darker moods.  "Universal Studios?"  

Eddie smiles.  "Yeah, and we can stay the whole weekend."   

Richie can’t help but grin, letting his fingers roam over Eddie’s upper-back, finding their way up and into his hair to take hold of the strands.  "You just wanna go on the Harry Potter shit again."   

Scoffing, Eddie goes with the movement when Richie pulls him closer.  "So?"   

"So don’t act like you’re doing  _me_ any favors."  Richie nips at Eddie’s bottom lip, smirking when Eddie’s breath catches and his hand tightens in his shirt.  "So damn selfish."   

"Fuck off,” Eddie quips, and then he throws his leg over Richie’s hips, sliding smoothly over him and draping himself along Richie’s front.  “Like you're gonna bitch when I buy you that stupid vest with the wings."   

Richie perks up, sneaking his arms around Eddie’s middle, letting his fingers touch the bit of skin between Eddie’s shirt and sweats.  "Don’t fucking lie to me.  That’s my husband’s vest you’re talking about."   

"Oh, you guys are married now, Mr. Dixon?"  Eddie takes his chin and turns his head to the side, placing teasing little kisses along the line of Richie’s jaw.  "Or did he take  _your_  name?"   

Warmth starts to gather low in Richie’s abdomen, and he tugs on the hem of Eddie’s shirt, so he can slip his hands underneath and splay his palms over bare skin.  "I  _totally_  took his name."  

Eddie chortles against his throat, the skin there prickling at the damp touch.  "I guess I’ll be your second husband, then."   

"I'm  _not_  divorcing Daryl."  Richie groans when Eddie rocks down against him; his cock twitches as it starts to swell against his thigh, and his fingertips press into Eddie’s soft skin.  "Sorry, it’s over."   

Eddie growls against his ear, reaching behind himself to take Richie’s hands in his.  "I'll  _fight_  him for you,” he breathes, pushing himself up and forcing Richie’s wrists down on the bed, on either side of his splayed curls.  “You're  _mine_."   

Richie inhales sharply.  Eddie’s words hit him somewhere deep in his chest- in his gut, making his skin burn and his cheeks flame.  He sinks deeper into the mattress, his breath coming faster, and he suddenly needs…  _something_ , but he has no fucking clue what it is.  "Oh yeah?” he asks, his voice deepening furthur when Eddie smirks down at him.  “You think you can take him?"   

"I’ll shove his stupid crossbow up his ass."   

Laughing, Richie struggles a bit against Eddie’s hold, and he drops his head back when Eddie’s hard grip tightens over his skin.  God- he thinks he might need more of this-  _want_  more of this.  He tries to move his legs, to spread them out so Eddie can fall between them, but Eddie’s thighs are locked around his hips, squeezing with every bit of movement Richie makes.  "You’re such a caveman."   

Eddie’s eyes are dark as he bends down, his mouth hovering just above Richie’s, his tongue flicking out to lick over his lips.  "I’ll feed him to the zombies."   

” _Walkers_.“   

Eddie snorts.  "Fine.  Whatever.  He’ll die no matter what the fuck they’re called."   

Richie tugs at Eddie’s grip again, and this time, Eddie releases him.  A flutter of disappointment goes through him, and he tries to ignore it.  "And then what?"   

"Then I keep you,” Eddie says simply, and he cups Richie’s jaw, moving in to press a quick kiss against his lips.  “And I have my way with you."   

Their mouths slide together, their arms wrap around each other, and Richie gives himself over to the lust washing over him.  Sex with Eddie is fucking amazing; he loves how vocal Eddie is, how he clings to Richie tightly as Richie fucks him hard and fast, how he begs and pleads for more, barely able to speak as he claws at Richie’s skin.  They don’t get to do it very often, not with school and work taking up a good portion of their time.  But when they do, Richie cherishes each moment, memorizes each new sound that falls from Eddie’s lips, each feeling that shoots through him when their eyes meet as they move together.  He wants that now, wants to feel Eddie close to him, feel Eddie’s skin and his breath, feel Eddie buried inside his body as he- 

A sharp bolt of  _want_  makes him pull back and gasp, and he clutches at Eddie’s back, lifting his hips as a whine grows in the back of his throat.  Holy  _fuck_ \- yes, yes that’s what he needs.  That’s what he’s dying for.  He’s never had anyone inside him, has never  _wanted_  anyone to touch that part of him.  Not because he finds it strange, or is embarrassed by his own personal hygiene- no, nothing like that.  It’s never really crossed his mind- but now, fuck  _yes_  now it is, and he has to take his lip between his teeth to keep from making any other sounds, face heating when his breath grows even more labored and his hips twitch up.   

Eddie ruts down against him, starting a slow, agonizing grind that signals he’s ready for more, for Richie to flip him over on his back and tear his pants and underwear off.  He can be inside Eddie’s tight body if he wants to, can use his fingers to open him up, fuck him on them long enough to get him good and worked-up- but he doesn’t want that.  So he grasps Eddie’s thighs, rolls a bit to the left, just far enough to dislodge Eddie’s hold on him.  Richie’s stomach twists nervously as he hooks his leg over Eddie’s hip, falling back again to allow Eddie’s body to fall on top of him.  He finally ends up with Eddie cradled between his thighs, and it’s a little strange, a little unreal, makes his heart race a little faster. 

Eddie pulls away, eyes fluttering open as he gazes down at Richie curiously, a single brow arching up his forehead.  "You too tired?” he asks, a little breathless, rolling his hips down hard and making Richie’s head fall back as he squeezes his eyes shut.   

Richie blinks a few times, clearing his head enough to say, “No, no, I’m not, I just-” he squeezes his thighs against Eddie’s waist, choking back a groan when he feels Eddie’s cock so damn close to where he wants it.  “I want, I need-"   

"Need what?"  Eddie leans in, nuzzling Richie’s temple as he drops a quick peck on his brow.  "You need me?"   

Richie nods.  "Yes."    

"You need to fuck me?"   

Richie shakes his head, his hand moving up to grasp at Eddie’s nape.  "No.  Not that."  

Their eyes stay locked together for several moments, and Richie hopes Eddie can see what he wants, because he’s not sure he can bring himself to say it.  The little wrinkle between Eddie’s brow makes a reappearance as Eddie looks between Richie’s eyes and mouth; the moment it clicks Eddie’s eyes grow wide, and it draws a chuckle out of Richie’s lips.  He brings his left knee up and hooks it over Eddie’s thigh.   

"You want  _me_  to, to be… in you?"  The lamp on the bedside table throws off Eddie’s soft features, and in the dim light his eyes appear to darken.  "Rich, you- you want me to- ?" 

Richie answers him the best way he can, by tugging Eddie down into a deep, hungry kiss, plunging his tongue inside Eddie’s sweet mouth, tasting the minty toothpaste they share and the mouthwash they don’t.  He’s so lost in the dizzying wave of need that he almost forgets to breathe, until he feels Eddie’s pelvis rock down and he pulls back, sucks in a breath.  ” _Yes_ ,“ he gasps out, close to Eddie’s ear, smiling when Eddie groans deeply and seizes him by the wrists once again.   

” _Fuck_.“  Eddie stares down at him, red staining the tops of his cheeks, his mouth hanging open as he shakes his head a couple times.  "Shit, Rich- are you sure?  Are you  _sure_   _sure_?"   

"What is ‘sure sure’?" 

"Don’t fucking joke about this,” Eddie adjusts his lower body slightly, his eyes closing for a moment as he visibly gathers himself.  “You’ve never- I mean, I never thought-"  

"I  _know_ ,” Richie says, scratching his nails lightly over the back of Eddie’s neck, lifting his head to bring their mouths close together again.  He swallows.  “Is it weird that I… that I want you like that?"   

Eddie shakes his head, eyes fluttering as Richie’s hands sneak into his hair to scratch at his scalp.  "No, it’s not weird, it’s just.  I’ve never thought about it before."  Richie’s stomach flips as Eddie leans in and nuzzles against him, his voice low and intimate as he says, "I  _love_  how you feel inside me."   

Richie smiles.  "Oh yeah?"   

"Yeah."  Eddie presses down against him again and Richie sighs, his head falling back as Eddie goes on.  "I like how it feels going in,” he drags his lips over Richie’s neck, down over his pulse, and he runs his tongue over the hollow.  “How it feels when you’re so deep inside."   

” _Eds_ ,“ Richie moans, and his hands move down, down Eddie’s back, where he clutches at Eddie’s shirt as heat spreads through his pelvis. 

"And you get so  _hard_ , Rich,” Eddie’s voice is rough, and his breath feels so hot as it huffs over Richie’s throat.  “You get even harder when you’re fucking me- when I ask you for more, when I beg you to make me come."  Eddie’s teeth graze at the bolt of his jaw, and Richie’s head gets fuzzy as his skin burns.  "I can’t hold back, though.  It’s not possible, when you’re holding my hips so tight, and you’re leaving bruises on my skin, and you’re kissing me and pounding into me and-  _god_ , I fucking  _love_  it."    

Richie’s going to die- he’s going to die from being so unbelievably turned-on.  "Eddie…" 

"And when you come inside,” Eddie groans, sucking scorching kisses up the side of Richie’s throat.  “It feels  _so_  good.  You don’t even know, it feels like you’re a part of me."   

” _Eddie_ ,“ Richie says, and he flushes at how high his voice comes out, how raw and needy it sounds.   

Eddie’s eyes appear above him, and they widen slightly.  "Do you want that?” he asks in a rush, his tone husky, and wrecked, and he licks his lips.  “You want me inside?'   

Richie hides his red face against Eddie’s neck, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders with shaking fingers, and he nods, gasps, "Please,  _please_."   

"You’re sure?"   

” _Yes_.“   

Their mouths come together again, and they kiss urgently, wet and messy and perfect, and Eddie only kisses like this when he’s unbearably turned on- and Richie can feel it against him, can feel Eddie’s hips twitching as they grab and pull at each other.  His head swims with each wave of want that rolls through him; he can’t believe this, can’t believe this is going to happen.  Eddie pulls at his clothes, tugging his shirt up and over his head, and Richie follows his lead, sitting up to yank his own shirt off and toss it on the floor.  Their sweats go next, and they fumble around each other, Eddie snorting when Richie has to stop and untangle the leg from around his calf- and then they are wrapped together again, falling on the bed side by side as they shove at each other’s underwear, hands sneaking inside and taking hold.   

They jerk each other slowly, with dry palms and loose fists, and Richie enjoys the simmering tease, the way Eddie gives him a quick squeeze with every down stroke, and Eddie’s tongue slides into his mouth smoothly.  He feels out the shape of Eddie under his fingers, wonders at the thickness and the length, and he knows that it will work, that even though he’s never even explored himself before that this can still be good.  But he can’t stop the bit of fear that creeps into his chest, and the anxious feeling that grows in the pit of his stomach.  How does Eddie do it?  Richie runs his fingers down along the vein, and Eddie feels so hot in his palm, so fucking hard already, and getting harder the longer they work over each other- god, he’s going to  _feel_  this in his body, feel it press in to him- will it feel as great as Eddie says?  Will it hurt?  Is it going to- 

Eddie pulls back, resting their foreheads together, breathing heavily as he says, "You’re still sure, right?"   

Richie nods, placing his palm over Eddie’s chest, his thumb flicking out and grazing over Eddie’s nipple.  He smiles at Eddie’s sharp inhale, and he pecks a kiss over Eddie’s nose.  "Come on.  Give it to me." 

Eddie makes a face, but he rolls to the side, and Richie flattens out on his back as he listens to the rummaging of items being shifted around in the bedside table.   He turns to his own, sees his glasses sitting right where he left them, beside the bottle of vitamins that he takes every morning.  This is going to happen.  Grinning, Richie opens his arms when Eddie comes back to him, opening up when Eddie kisses him again, holding on tight when Eddie pops open the cap on the little bottle in his hand and starts to pump him with a slick grip.  Richie sighs, closing his eyes and getting lost in the feeling, his leg giving an abortive jump when Eddie’s thumb presses down over the head; he’s relaxed, the tight ball of worry in his chest loosening, the feeling in his stomach withering away.  Everything’s going to be fine.  He loves Eddie, trusts Eddie, and he knows Eddie won’t hurt him.    

His hips keep lifting off the bed, and he watches his cock slide through Eddie’s fist long enough that he doesn’t feel it at first when Eddie’s other hand heads lower.  The touch is gentle, uncertain, and it feels strange to have Eddie’s fingers so close to him there.  He sucks in a breath when Eddie’s thumb presses against him, then circles his hole, and Richie squirms at the wet feeling of the lube.  But it feels… okay.  It’s not bad, but it’s not great either, and he rocks his pelvis up again, to keep up the rhythm of Eddie’s fist still pumping over him.   

Eddie sits back and squeezes the bottle over his palm, and Richie hisses when the touch is cool this time.  "You okay?"  Eddie breathes against his chest, trailing lower as he drops biting kisses all over Richie’s stomach, then his hips.  "Can I start putting them in?"   

"Y-Yeah,” Richie stutters, and he braces himself, expecting to feel the pain he’s only heard of immediately.  It doesn’t come, though, and instead, he gets the soft, massaging touch of Eddie’s fingers pushing along his rim, circling, circling, and then… and then a gentle press, and it- fuck, it burns, for a moment, and Richie feels his muscles start to clench, his knees trying to come together to force Eddie’s hand away.   

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers, his cheek pressed against Richie’s abdomen, and Eddie smiles as their eyes meet.  “I’m gonna try something, okay?  It’ll help."   

"Okay,” Richie agrees, and then Eddie’s head moves lower and the wet heat of his mouth sucks him down all in one go.  “Shit-  _shit_."   

Richie grips the comforter, his mouth dropping open, breath falling heavily, and god damn- he loves it when Eddie does this.  Eddie takes his time, using his tongue to swirl around the head, flicking it over the underside, and across the slit, just  _flick_ ,  _flick_ ,  _flick_  and Richie has to sink his teeth into his lip, has to force his leg to stay still or risk it jerking up and hitting Eddie in the shoulder.   _This_  he can really lose himself to- and he does, his hands moving down his body to grasp at Eddie’s hair, to hold on to the thick tufts as Eddie hums warmly around him.  And he can feel it, just barely, Eddie’s fingertip sinking into him, and pressing through, and the stretch stings, but he doesn’t even care, not when Eddie’s head starts to bob between his legs.   

It’s a slow process, but Eddie continues to use his mouth, and he gets one finger all the way in.  And it feels okay, it feels kind of nice, and Richie’s squirming, panting as Eddie moves his finger in, and out, in, then out again, and he does this continuously, and then there’s another finger being added, and Richie’s toes curl as his stomach tenses, releases, and he gasps out, "Eds-  _Eds_ , yes, yes-” and “God, it’s good, that’s good, fuck- "  

It hurts, but Eddie doesn’t let up the attention to his cock.  Filthy, wet sounds fill the air, and Richie closes his eyes, and shit-  _shit_ , Eddie’s fingers curl up inside him, and it feels good, it’s filling, and he’s never felt anything like it before, never knew anything could feel like this.  Whines fall from his lips, and his hands tug at Eddie’s hair, and he can’t breathe, can’t think when Eddie starts fucking into him hard, knuckles grazing the flesh inside him, and it sends little jolts through his legs, up his spine, and shit- he’s going to come, he’s going to come-  

Eddie pulls his mouth off him, and now another finger has joined in, and Richie groans,  _loud_ , and he  _never_  sounds like this, didn’t even know he could make noises like this.  A little smirk plays over Eddie’s lips, and Richie reaches for him, wants to pull him up and kiss his stupid little smile away, but Eddie picks up the pace, jabbing hard and deep into him, deep, so deep, and fast, and Richie’s breath hitches, and he can’t take any more.   

"Fuck,  _fuck_ -” he gasps, and he pushes himself up on his elbows, his hips moving, and he’s fucking himself down on Eddie’s fingers, and up into his fist, and  _shit_  it’s too much, it’s way too much.  “Eddie,  _Eddie_  fuck- fuck me.   _Fuck_   _me_."   

"Yeah?"  Eddie smiles, sweat dripping down over his nose, fingers curving up inside.  "You want it now?"   

Richie nods frantically, his chest heaving, and Eddie’s touch grazes that spot inside him, the one he knows makes Eddie go crazy- ” _Fuuuuck_ ,“ a moan tears out of him, his body lighting up with pleasure he never knew was possible.  "Eddie, Eddie- god  _damn_."  

Eddie’s fingers slip out of him, and Richie falls back again as Eddie crawls up and hovers above him.  "Rich,” Eddie says, breathless, and then he reaches over to Richie’s nightstand, pulls the drawer open.  Eddie’s voice is low and soft, his eyes falling to stare at Richie’s mouth.  “I’ve never seen you like this.  I like you like this."  

Grinning, Richie reaches up, runs his thumb down Eddie’s cheek, then presses the pad over his bottom lip.  "Like what?"   

The little condom wrapper glints in Eddie’s fingers as he sits back.  "You look  _wrecked_."   

Richie’s eyes stay on Eddie’s hands tearing open the little packet.  "You look eager,” he says, his stomach swooping when Eddie slowly, carefully, rolls the condom over himself.  The small bottle of lube is popped open again, and Eddie pours a good amount into his palm, and his small hands close around his cock, and he strokes himself a few times.  Heat jolts through Richie’s hips, and he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist as Eddie moves and settles over him.  “ _Shit_ \- you’re gonna fuck me."   

Eddie’s lips curl up at the corners.  "No, no,” he leans in, taking Richie’s thighs and hiking them up over his waist, and then he cups Richie’s jaw with one hand, the other moving down, down between their bodies.  “I’m going to make love to you."   

Richie opens up for Eddie’s kiss, and then he feels it- the wide, rounded head, pressing in, in,  _in_ \- and Eddie is sinking into him, and Richie’s breath is stuck in his throat, his hands scrabbling over Eddie’s back, grabbing at Eddie’s sweaty skin.  ” _Oh_   _god_ ,“ Richie cries, and it’s- oh god, it’s too much.  It hurts a little, but it feels amazing, and he doesn’t want to ever let Eddie go again.  "Fuck, oh my  _god_."   

"You okay?"  Eddie is panting hard, his thighs tensing where Richie’s calves are resting against the back of them.   "Do you need a minute?"   

Richie nods, takes a few deep breaths.  "I’m good, I’m fine."  He thinks he is- it still hurts a bit, but he’s so slick inside, and Eddie is so big, feels huge in his body.  "I’m- you can- you can move.   _Please_  move."   

It’s slow, and sweet, Eddie pulling back slightly, and pushing back in.  It's  _good_ \- so, so good, despite the pain he can still feel, and the wet feeling he isn’t too happy about- it's  _Eddie_.  Eddie thrusting in to him, Eddie’s breath blowing over his throat as he buries his face there, gasping out praise.  "Yes,  _yes_ , Rich,” he murmurs against Richie’s skin.  “You’re so good, so beautiful,” he groans into Richie’s ear- and Richie isn’t sure he can handle it.  He pulls Eddie up by his hair, breath catching when Eddie pegs that wonderful place inside.   

“Eds, Eds-” Richie cranes his neck, licks into Eddie’s mouth, whines when Eddie nails him perfectly again.  “Oh shit- oh shit-" 

Eddie pulls back, their lips still touching, and he stares into Richie’s eyes, into everything that Richie is- and Richie can feel it all the way in the center of his chest, where his heart is pounding so hard, so loud, he’s sure it’s going to burst from him.  Eddie is holding on tight to his waist, moving in deep, full thrusts, hitting that spot over, and over, and over-  

"I can’t,” Eddie says, and they’re breathing into each other, hands clutching at one another desperately.  “I can’t- I can’t last, I’m-” He moans throatily, his leg jerking against Richie’s knee.  “Fuck- you feel too good, you feel so good."     

Richie’s voice is strained- no,  _ruined_ \- as he leans up and nips at Eddie’s lip, says, "It’s okay, it’s fine."   

Eddie’s forehead creases, his brows furrowing, and Eddie’s hands entwine with his, and pin them down against the bed again.  "Fuck, fuck- Richie-"  

Richie keens as Eddie picks up his pace, thrusting hard, and fast, pegging that wonderful spot every single time.  And  _shit_ \- Richie’s suddenly on the edge, his fingers locking around Eddie’s, his legs shaking where they’re hooked over Eddie’s hips, and he’s so close, so fucking close- he just needs one little push-  

” _I_   _love_   _you_ ,“ Eddie cries out, and that’s it- Richie’s shoulders hunch in, and his entire body trembles, and he’s not sure if he’s making any noise, but he thinks he might be.  He can’t tell, can’t hear anything, can only feel wave after wave of bliss.  And it lasts, his hips jumping as Eddie keeps going, keeps wringing more and more from him, until it’s too much, and his skin is tingling, and his feet start to go numb.   

” _Eddie_ ,“ he moans weakly, smiling as Eddie goes taught above him.  ” _Eddie_.“  And he can feel it inside him, Eddie’s cock throbbing and twitching, emptying into the condom as Eddie gasps into his ear.  He feels… powerful, loved, as Eddie crushes their lips together, his tongue sweeping through Richie’s mouth, and it’s wonderful.  Richie feels  _wonderful_.   

They are tangled together so tightly, and Richie doesn’t think he can move.  His arms won’t loosen where they are wrapped around Eddie’s waist, and his legs refuse to cooperate and unwind from around Eddie’s hips.  He wants to hold on, to keep Eddie as close as possible; he thought he felt connected to Eddie before, but it’s different, now.  Now, he truly feels like they are one.   

After a few silent minutes, where they hold on to each other and catch their breath, Eddie turns to him, rolling to the side a bit to stretch out along Richie’s left.  "Hey,” he mumbles, dragging his fingers down over Richie’s tacky chest.  “You okay?" 

Richie chuckles, glancing down at the mess all over his stomach, and at the condom as Eddie removes it and ties off the end.  "I think you killed me."   

Eddie laughs, tossing the condom into the waste basket on his side of the bed.  "That bad, huh?"   

Richie hates to be sappy, but he can’t lie about this.  "No, it was,” he turns, facing Eddie, and he reaches out to touch Eddie’s chin.  “It was amazing."   

Eddie smiles slowly.  "Oh yeah?"  

"Fuck yeah."   

"You’re not just saying that?"   

Rolling his eyes, Richie scoffs.  "Were you even paying attention to me?  How many times can I say 'Oh my god’ before it clicks that maybe it feels pretty awesome."   

"Shut up, asshat,” Eddie scoots closer, slipping his arm over Richie’s ribs, scratching his nails lightly down over Richie’s back.  “I’ve really never seen you like that before."   

He might be embarrassed if it hadn’t feel so damn good.  "Well, I guess you’ve never seen me with my real husband before."   

Eddie’s eyes narrow, but there’s still a smile playing over his lips.  "If you fucking say anything about Daryl fucking Dixon-"   

"Now  _he_  fucks me good."  Richie dodges Eddie’s hand, grabbing on to Eddie’s arm and pulling him close.  "You know he makes me scream, right?"   

"Fuck you, it’s over."   

"Don’t be like that, babe."  Richie snorts when Eddie tries to elbow him, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s chest and planting a loud, obnoxious kiss on his hair.  "You already know you’re my side man.  Daryl is my one true love."   

Eddie’s eyes are bright, his cheeks rosy, just the way Richie loves seeing him.  "If you get Daryl,” Eddie says, his smile turning sly.  “Then I get Rick."   

Richie throws his head back and laughs.  "Now  _that_  is fucking ridiculous.  Rick is not gay."     

"He will be when he sees me."   

They get cleaned up after that, jumping in to the shower together and gently washing each other down.  Eddie runs a warm cloth over Richie’s back, and down, down to where he’s starting to feel sore, and Eddie drops a kiss on the small of his back while cleaning him up as thoroughly as only he can.  This is how Eddie loves him, and treats him better than anyone ever has.  It’s so strange to feel so certain, but Richie does; he knows Eddie is the one for him.  There is no one else out there.  Who can possibly compare?   

As they get back into bed, between fresh sheets, Richie curls his arm over Eddie’s waist, pulls him back against his chest, and he can’t remember why he was so upset to begin with.  And really, it doesn’t matter, because if he has Eddie in his life, he’ll never have to keep anything to himself again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Have some more trash  
> You can follow me in Hell -  
> talkreddietome.tumblr.com  
> I reblog for other fandoms, too, but it's mostly reddie at the moment.


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